Let The Light Take Me In
by LaLuneMoonstone
Summary: Draco has been spying for the Order, bringing them information. Hermione is chosen to be the one he delivers it to and they find themselves having grown closer. But the end is coming. Can love truly prevail?


_ **Disclaimer:** I own nothing, I make nothing from this. I am only grateful that the lovely Joanne Rowling lets us play in her sandbox!_

This lovely one shot was inspired and birthed by "Far Away" by Breaking Benjamin. If you have never heard it, or even if you have, I highly recommend playing it while you read. Some of the lyrics can be found in the fic. Please don't hate me too much. Also a big thank you to SyrenGrey who made my beautiful cover photo!

I was too impatient for a beta, so all errors are my own. Hopefully there aren't too many. Just PM me if you find any.

* * *

If he could just make it to her. Just one last time. When had she become his salvation? He didn't know when it had changed for him. It was getting more and more dangerous to get the information he was giving the Order. He made this agreement, he would see it through to the end. That didn't mean he was blind to the sacrifice, or that it would go unmentioned, merely a footnote in their history.

She crossed the space towards him when he emerged from the trees in their meeting place. "You're late."

"It's become problematic getting away."

He watched her frown, watched her look him over looking for any sign of harm. "Let us protect you." She pleaded, as she had done each time they met.

At first it was likely because she felt it were the right thing to say, now he saw in her eyes, heard in her voice the change. "How can the tide be turned if your side hides me? You need this to win. I know my part."

She shakes her head, wild curls a halo about her head, swinging with the action. How stupid of the boy he had once been to not see the beauty of that wild hair. Untamed, like the witch that wore it. She foolishly thought it plain, but like her brown eyes, it was anything but plain. There were so many colors that made up that hair. Her eyes shown a bright honeyed amber, like light shining through a glass of firewhiskey. "No. Your life means more than information."

He smiled somberly at her, a large hand raising to her cheek, thumb stroking across it. "Silly witch. You know it doesn't, it never has."

A tear escaped whiskey brown eyes. He swiped it away with his thumb. "No, not true." She said almost as though if she believed it enough it would be true. Silly witch.

"Granger." He said with a sigh. "Hermione, you are brighter than that. Enough." He wasn't sure why he needed her to give up her foolish hope. Maybe it was because he no longer knew how to hope.

"No, Draco!" She shook her head again, curls swinging. "I won't give up, I won't allow it." She straightened, determination settling into her.

He didn't want this to be what he remembered of her. Didn't want this to be the last thing he thought of, she thought of. He wanted her to remember him as other than this. "No tears. No sadness." He said. "Let me keep one thing, Granger." He leaned down brushing his lips against hers. Softly at first, tentatively until she opened to him and then he poured himself into her. Surrounded her, melted into her, pulled her in so tight he didn't know where he ended and she began.

_Stay with me._ It echoed through his mind like a mantra, like a prayer. He didn't pray, who would he even pray to? Who would hear him? Just this once he spoke to the Universe, to whoever would listen. Give me this night.

He stayed that night with her and in the growing light of the dawn he slipped away. He'd kissed her one last time before he left, watched the sun slowly light upon her. He wanted to wake up to her every morning for the rest of forever, but he wasn't stupid. He wasn't the hero of this story, he was the villain and everyone knew villains never got happy endings.

* * *

Hermione had woke alone and her heart clenched in her chest and she knew, she just knew that was going to be the last time that she ever saw him. It was crazy to think that at the beginning of this she still thought she hated him. She thought that she didn't care.

She remembered how angry she had been when she had been told that she would be the one to meet with their informant. He had been vetted by Snape, who had assured them all that he was trustworthy. She understood why it had to be her, she was logical, would see him for what he really was. She had an innate ability to tell if someone wasn't being truthful. She wouldn't fall for pretty lies.

Watching him emerge from the trees behind the abandoned cottage made her blood boil. Draco bloody Malfoy, of course it had to be him? It couldn't be someone else, no. It had to be him. She had insulted him, told him that no matter what he might do, he would always be a coward to her. How stupid of her really.

She soon realized that he was braver than she gave him credit for, than anyone gave him credit for. He was dedicated, and loyal. He didn't care what happened to him, just that his family lived. His life didn't matter, but theirs did and soon, so would hers. She had never really been able to fathom someone putting her life before theirs.

She sat in the Order meeting, they were going over the new information and all she could think of was that that was goodbye. How did it just dawn on her? How did she only just realize that he was saying goodbye? It was like a veil had come up over her eyes, she gripped her chair. No.

Beside her, Ron leaned towards her. "Hermione what's wrong?" He rested his hand against her arm, his thumb stroking gently. She wanted to yank her arm back. It wasn't long graceful fingers, she wanted Draco's hand touching her. She had loved Ron once, and while he might want her to love him still, she didn't.

"I can't do this anymore." She said shaking her head.

"Do what?" He frowned. "Meet with the informant? What did he do to you?" He asked jumping to conclusions, like he always did.

She shook her head and leaned forward. "What are we going to do to protect Draco?" Harry's head shot towards her, Ron pulled his hand back and she could think about long graceful fingers once again.

"We have a plan, you needn't worry." Kingsley said and she couldn't help but feel like he was brushing her off.

"Why would we help that Death Eater?" Ron asked angrily. "After everything he has done to you."

Hermione sighed. "People change, Ron. They grow up." Something you apparently will never understand. Was left unsaid. "He is our informant. He has been helping us." She said angrily hoping that someone would take her side.

"If he has helped us, why can't we help him? It seems only fair."

It was Harry who spoke this time. She met his green gaze across the table and he smiled and gave her a nod. Kingsley's voice broke through and they both frowned. "It won't come at a cost to anyone on our side."

Harry frowned. "Obviously he has shown us the side he supports, doesn't that mean he is one of ours?" He was such a hero, likely had a bit of a hero complex if Hermione thought a lot about it.

She wanted to say more but Kingsley said they were done speaking about it. Harry found her later and told her they might have to take matters into their own hands. She was surprised to see Ron nodding. Harry had apparently talked sense into him. Honestly, it was a big reason they would never work, only his best friend could reach him to temper him.

* * *

Draco hugged his mother. Furious was the only word to describe her. They hadn't sent anyone to pull him out, how dare they not keep their end of the bargain. "They won't risk their side for me, mother." He said with no malice, no anger. He was resigned. Perhaps this had been his date all along. To be nothing more than a footnote.

_Gave up the war._ Gave up the side he knew would bury him. For what? A side that would rather abandon him? Perhaps it was what he deserved for all he could not take back, for all he had done. He made his mother promise not to give it away. She wasn't as good an occlumens as he, but she was good enough.

He had to get through this meeting, had to make it to the battle. Grey eyes met red over the table after he was told to sit. He felt him shove his way inside and stayed strong. He only showed him what he wanted this monster to see. This monster that had never been his Lord. Sins of the father and all that rot.

He passed. Passed only because he had learned from the best. His Godfather had ensured that Draco had the tools to be a spy just as he had, had for as long as he had been one. "I will not lose my godson to stupidity." He had said one day before he began teaching him. He had told Draco, if he would not let him help with his assignment, at least let him help in that way.

He gave Draco the tools he had needed to survive to traverse the world he had been thrust into. He never wanted this, didn't ask for it. He was thrust in this world thanks to his father. Thrust into it, forced, brought to heel. If any words could describe it, it would be those.

_When the broken fall alive._ He looked in the mirror and new he was sallow, had lost some of the muscle tone from quidditch. The finale was coming up and he was going to do something good for once in his miserable life and maybe, just maybe. _The light would take him in._

He moved with the others, but as soon as they were back at the school he broke off from the rest. It was best they not know his plans. He wrangled some stragglers and brought them to the to the seventh floor. Second years, they had gotten separated. Longbottom opened the doors and nodded to him.

He didn't stay long enough for the question that he could see on the other boy's face. Only left him with a few parting words thrown over his shoulder. "It is starting." He was already out of sight by the time he likely mustered up a response.

He moved quickly, his wand in his hand. He could hear the fighting. Knew that it was slowly winding down. He just hoped, even as hopeless as it was, that the light would prevail. It mattered not whether he was there to see it or not. It was all he wanted and why he had worked so hard to help them.

Wild curls caught his attention, and not a moment too soon. He moved quickly to get side pointing his wand steadily at an Aunt who had no qualms about sending a _crucio_ to her nephew. To family. Family meant nothing to the woman. The _avada_ slipped from his lips with no hesitation. Green light slammed into the crazed woman, her eyes blowing wide. _Forgive me mother._

Hermione turned to him flinging herself into his arms. He breathed in the scent of her, and held her tight. He pulled back. "I need you to stay alive. Stay alive, Hermione." No last name this time. He wanted her to hear him say it at least once. He cupped her face and kissed her like a man starved before moving into the fray.

He killed his most loyal. Somehow he didn't expect this level of furious anger. But then you never see the hurricane coming until it's right on top of you. He hadn't even been able to ask his mother if she could forgive him. He'd killed her sister. Family was important, but Hermione was more important to him. He'd kill his own father to keep her safe.

"Let's see if you can."

The words were hissed at him with venom. Suddenly his father was in front of him. He was vaguely aware of Harry fighting Voldemort. So he wasn't dead, good. He turned grey eyes onto the haggard man standing before him. He had once seemed larger than life. He had once been what Draco strove to be. Now, now he was just a man, just a sad man.

It was easy to lift his wand for all he had put he and his mother through. "You stopped being my father a long time ago." He said somberly. Just because he could do it, didn't mean it didn't hurt to do it. He never expected it would come down to this, his father or his witch. He'd wanted to try and save him. Perhaps maybe like himself, his father was past saving. This was their fate.

_I'll become the lost._ Sorrow had left him there. Fighting the man who brought him into this world, the man who'd given him a name. He watched him fall, the light going out in grey eyes he had given him, his son. Was that it? Was it over?

Light broke through the clouds. Voldemort had been killed, Harry had done it. The light had won. He was falling, the world skidding sideways. Curls, wild and untamed came into his view. Hot tears dripped onto his face. He lifted his hand to wipe them away. It felt heavy, everything felt heavy. "No tears, love." He could finally stop fighting. He could finally stop.

"I love you, Draco. Please!"

"Oh silly witch. I have loved you since the first time you spoke to me with fire in your eyes." She'd had his heart for a long time. "Can you forgive me for being too stupid to see it?"

"Of course! I love you, you're gonna be okay. You're gonna make it."

He shook his head. "Villains don't get a happy ending, love."

She was screaming now, at him most likely. Furious he would say that but his hand was slipping from her face. The light going out in those grey eyes. He got to see her one last time it's all that mattered. Her heart breaking could be heard across the battlefield.


End file.
